


In the Ruins of Dreams

by ChillieBean



Series: Suit Up! [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:07:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26677927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChillieBean/pseuds/ChillieBean
Summary: Moira O'Deorain has been underground for months, and finally, Overwatch has a lead. Baptiste and Genji are sent undercover to investigate, learning the hard way just how dangerous Moira is.
Relationships: Jean-Baptiste Augustin/Genji Shimada
Series: Suit Up! [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1221200
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17
Collections: Baptember 2020





	In the Ruins of Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Yoooo!
> 
> Y'all didn't expect me to do just one fic for Baptember, did you? 😉
> 
> This fic was standalone until I decided to merge it with a universe that already existed. Consider this a direct follow up to [Suit Up!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15346041/chapters/35608473) You're under no obligation to re-read it before this, but by all means, if you want to, go right ahead! IF McHanzo isn't your thing, here is a ship-free summary of Suit Up! that pertains to this story.
> 
> ~*~LAST TIME ON _SUIT UP!_ ~*~  
> Overwatch decrypt a Talon correspondence detailing that Maximilien, Talon's reclusive account, will be present at Monte Carlo's Fashion Week to meet with Matteo Rinaldi, millionaire heir and prominent figure in Monaco's underworld. Jesse and Hanzo are sent in undercover—against the wishes of the Monégasque government—to watch the proceedings.
> 
> Under the guise of cover, Jesse as reporter Joel Morricone and Hanzo as fashion buyer Nakayama Reo, they attend the show. It's uneventful, Maximilien and Rinaldi speak a couple of formalities, Jesse can't get any information out of Rinaldi nor Hanzo when pressing Maximilien. They ultimately suspect that the meeting had already occurred, making the mission a bust.
> 
> But then... Panic! At the fashion show! 
> 
> Moira O'Deorain, codename 'Wicked Witch of the West' makes an appearance. She gloats, telling them that Rinaldi is more important than being taken by a still illegal Overwatch. She tells them that inside the room containing the mingling guests are four canisters of fatal neurotoxin. They have two minutes to rescue as many people as they can before they die, or they can use that time arresting her.
> 
> Ordered by Winston to save innocent lives, Jesse and Hanzo rescue all but one person from the room. By the time authorities arrive, Moira is gone. They learn the gas was just a plant-based incapacitating agent, and aside from mild respiratory irritation, no damage was done. Winston orders them to stay at the hotel given the events are outside of their jurisdiction, and Maximilien, Rinaldi, and Moira are on the wind.
> 
> ~*~AND NOW THE CONTINUATION.~*~

Baptiste stares his opponent down.

Genji stares back with steely focus, dribbling the basketball close to the ground. Smart; it's harder for Baptiste to get to it. It might be a disadvantage, but he has his height, and Genji is going to have to make his way past him to score a point.

A drip of sweat trickles down the side of Baptiste’s face. He ignores it, keeping his eyes on Genji—he knows the moment he drops his concentration, Genji will strike. 

Right now, the score is even. This final play will determine the winner. 

Genji moves. He approaches Baptiste’s right but Baptiste sees it for the distraction it is, making sure to keep his left ready to strike. Genji is practically in front of him now, but before Baptiste can move his arms to try and knock the ball out of hand, Genji bounces it between Baptiste’s legs. By the time Baptiste turns around, Genji is leaping for the ring, landing that final slam dunk. 

“Game!” Lena shouts, arms high in the air. As Genji lands back on solid ground, Hana, Winston, Angela, and Ana cheer and clap. 

Baptiste cannot help but grin, not even a single bit disappointed that he lost. He offers his hand to Genji. “Great play.”

"Thanks," Genji says, taking it. Baptiste looks down at him and is hit with an unexpected and almost unrelenting urge to sweep his sweat-stuck hair off his forehead.

“Best play ever!” Lena says, blinking over to them. Baptiste takes back his hand as she mimes Genji’s winning move. “Between the legs, just,” she chef kisses, “genius!”

“Well, there’s certainly a lot of space to play between them,” Genji says, looking at Baptiste with the slyest grin on his face.

Baptiste feels himself burn hot under Genji’s wicked gaze. To say that the sexual tension is palpable would be an understatement; they’ve been trading comments like this for the last few weeks. It all started with an innocent comment on Baptiste’s part: Genji was complaining that he had an _itch_ that needed scratching. Baptiste offered, Genji lightly turned it down and quickly changed the subject.

What Baptiste didn’t know at the time that it was an old Overwatch euphemism for sex. Having that explained to him by Ana was more than a shock, he’ll admit.

It's been a slippery slope since then, and Baptiste _wants_ Genji, despite it going against his golden rule that he doesn't hook up with teammates. But as the line between playful comment and innuendo blurred, wishful desire has turned into full-blown lust.

How could it _not_? Lúcio bought a box of popsicles a few weeks ago and for three days straight, whenever Baptiste would spot Genji on base, he had one in his mouth. Baptiste was utterly _slain_ when he commented about it, and Genji replied with, "I love sucking on _things_."

Suffice it to say, Baptiste has been unable to shake the image of Genji sucking him off from his mind. 

And then there was the gym last week, where Baptiste was minding his own business, deadlifting as usual, and there was a brief discussion on who on the team he would be able to lift. It was all fun and games until Genji came in, and Baptiste declared quite proudly that lifting Genji would be easy. It went over everyone else's heads, but he could see the gears turning in Genji's.

Genji didn't take his eyes off him for the duration of that session, leering at him whenever he would lift. Baptiste was sure to give him an _excellent_ show.

With thanks to these little barbs thrown at each other, they’ve grown closer as friends.

Friends, though. Baptiste wants more. His attraction to Genji isn't just physical; Genji is smart and funny, he has a wickedly dark sense of humour. It's how Baptiste knows he _wants_ Genji more than just to sleep with him. It's been so long he's been in a relationship with someone, and he clicks so well with Genji.

But, the baggage of hooking up with a teammate keeps him grounded. The last thing he wants is to ruin their friendship _if_ a relationship were to crumble. It's why Baptiste hasn't made a move. 

He's not sure, though, if it's a blessing or a curse that Genji hasn't asked him out. Before now, he honestly didn't know _what_ he would say if Genji approached him, because the last thing he wants is to break Genji’s heart _if_ they don't work out. 

Now though, this latest comment is probably the most daring said between them. If Genji asked him out to dinner he'd immediately agree, because God, what he wouldn’t give for Genji to be between his legs right about now, kneeling on the ground, putting that mouth of his to good use—

“Yeah, Baptiste is all leg, hey,” Lena says, snapping Baptiste out of his lusty thoughts. “They go on for days.”

Trusty Lena, the innuendo _always_ flies over her head. Baptiste glances at Genji and tries not to combust under Genji's _clear_ leering.

“They really do,” Genji says eventually. Before more is said, Lena takes Genji’s hand, raising it above both of their heads.

“To the undefeated champion!” Lena declares, and everyone cheers again. Then she blinks by Baptiste’s side. “And to Baptiste, who had us all on the edge of our seats!”

Another round of applause, and Baptiste nods in response. 

“Next match,” Lena continues, “is with Lúcio, when he and Jesse and Hanzo return from their mission.”

“Easy,” Genji says, confident.

“I don’t know,” Hana replies. “He’s pretty good.”

"I'm better," Genji replies, folding his arms across his chest and tilting his chin up a little higher, confidence utterly radiating off him. He's so sexy when he's like this.

"Show me," Hana says, picking up the ball. She tosses it to Genji, he joins them back on the court, Lena follows behind.

Baptiste watches them play for a moment. He would join them if he were able to shake loose the image of Genji on his knees in front of him, mouth stuffed with cock. But all he wants now is his room and some lube to work this out.

Without thinking more about it, lest he gets an erection in public, he grabs his gear, wishes everyone on the team a good night, and retreats back to his room. He dumps everything on the floor beside the door, doesn’t bother undressing as he sits on his bed, lubes his hand, closes his eyes, and wholly gives into the fantasy of Genji deepthroating him.

* * *

Baptiste sits at the briefing room table. Genji has taken the seat opposite, while Winston claims his usual spot at the head, and Ana rounds out the other side. An image is brought up on the holoscreen projecting out of the middle of the table, from the outside it looks like an average-looking building.

“Following the Monaco mission, we know that Talon has gone underground,” Winston says. “The main players present at the fashion show—Maximilien, Moira, Rinaldi—haven’t been seen in the weeks since. As you know, Jesse, Hanzo, and Lúcio are chasing a lead with relation to Rinaldi's in-construction casino-hotel in Nice, but we have found another lead.” 

The image of the building changes to security footage taken from a traffic camera outside. The sidewalk is bustling with people going about their day.

“This was taken yesterday afternoon, Campus Bio-Medico, University of Rome.” Winston pauses the feed and enlarges it. It’s grainy but definitive. “Moira O’Deorain was positively identified entering the building at 1:54 p.m and leaving at 5:32 p.m. This is the first sighting of her that we’ve had since Monte Carlo Fashion Week. We followed her, security footage leads to a building just outside of Naples, where she has been seen visiting daily since Monaco.”

“We finally have her,” Ana says.

“That’s good news,” Genji says, analysing the image of the building. “Do we know what is inside?”

“No,” Winston answers. The building is owned by Sienna Aquilino, PhD, but there is little information about her out there. Our best guess, it’s a cover.”

“Which makes this all the more suspicious,” Baptiste says. He turns his attention to Winston. “What’s the plan?”

“Both you and Genji will investigate. Moira is never there at night, that will be our chance to strike. Look for evidence of anything harmful, anything we can give to the authorities. If O’Deorain is so easily willing to knock out a room full of people and _walk_ away from that crime scene, we have to know what else she is up to.”

Baptiste nods. “Should be easy enough to identify anything sinister.”

“Now, the aim is to leave no trace,” Ana says. “Don’t disturb anything, don’t take anything. O’Deorain is dangerous, one of the most dangerous people in Talon for the simple fact that she has zero disregard for anyone but herself. She is also protected by them. Find evidence we can use to build a case against her.”

Baptiste nods. “Do you suspect this is a laboratory?”

“Could be,” Winston replies. “No one else from Talon has entered the building. There are other people who do, looking at their socials they all have science degrees. Aside from them, a cleaning company is contracted, and their shift begins at nine p.m.”

Ana drops two keycards on the table. “You’ll go in under the guise of the cleaning crew. They work for one hour on the dot. Get in, move quickly, get out.”

Baptiste eyes the two keycards, one with his picture, the other Genji's maskless face. He picks up his card, along with his picture it also has fake name Simon Chery and underneath, 'Logistica Service Italiana'. “Easy.”

“You’ll report to Logistica at 8 p.m," Ana says. "They’ll provide you with a van and the supplies you’ll need to clean the place.”

“Very easy,” Genji says, picking up his keycard. He studies it for a moment, then his eyes flit from Ana to Winston. “They won’t even know we’re there.”

“Be sure that they don’t,” Winston says, shutting off the holoprojector and turning on the lights. “Pack what you need. You leave in an hour.”

* * *

They’re methodical.

The building is a laboratory all right. It’s mostly lab space, an open-plan space containing rows of benchtops which house pipettes and tubes and centrifuges. There’s biohazard hoods, incubators, and freezers dotted all over the place. He doesn’t spend much time going through the refrigerated and frozen samples, anything contained within is unlikely to survive transit if they were to move them.

They spend most of the time in the offices, wiping down desks, emptying bins, and activating displays, hoping that one that is unlocked. Baptiste can't speak for Genji, he took the offices on the south side of the building while Baptiste is focused north, but he doesn't get lucky and can’t access the system. 

As expected, O’Deorain’s office is a little more fruitful; it turns out she prefers the old-school method of lab keeping by way of pen and paper. Unfortunately, it’s in shorthand and another language if Baptiste were to guess, he can’t make heads or tails out of it. It doesn’t stop him from taking pictures of the pages in the hopes that Winston or Athena can decipher it.

Baptiste checks every room, every benchtop in the lab for clues. As far as he can tell, there is nothing sinister here. It’s just a research lab. The key is what, though, and that answer to that question comes in the way of a locked, temperature-controlled room.

Swiping his keycard against the reader doesn’t grant him access. Cleaners clearly aren’t privy to this space, but that won’t do. On his trolley, he picks up his backpack hidden amongst cleaning supplies and pulls out his scanner. Holding it up to the reader, he initiates unlocking protocols.

Taking a breath as it works on the decryption, Baptiste taps the comm in his ear. “I found a locked room,” he says quietly. “I’m unlocking it now.”

“Keep an open comm line,” Genji responds. “Have you found anything else?”

“O'Deorain's laboratory notebook, but everything is in shorthand. I’ve taken pictures.” Baptiste frowns at the scanner—this room must have crazy encryption if it’s taking this long to get in. “You?”

“Nothing. Office space is occupied by assistants, there are pictures on the wall, personal effects on the desk. No laboratory notes, though.”

“Maybe they input results digitally.”

“Most likely. I haven't found an unlocked terminal so I cannot confirm."

The scanner continues working, and Baptiste is acutely aware of the seconds counting down while he stands here. “How much time have we got?”

“Twenty-four minutes.”

“Should be plenty of time, assuming this scanner can—” Baptise grins when it flashes up green and the door unlocks. “I’m headed in.” He places the scanner back in his bag and slings it over his shoulder. He doesn’t bother taking the trolley in with him. Since the room is locked to cleaners, there’s nothing to clean.

He opens the door and is immediately greeted with a second door. This is an airlock, a means to make sure that whatever is inside _stays_ inside. He tries the handle on the internal door, thankful that this one isn’t locked. Stepping through cautiously, the lights flicker to life, coming on automatically. He is met with a single table, and on it is a plant inside a black plastic pot that has deep green leaves and a single fire orange flower that looks not unlike a peace lily. There are some pipettes and tubes beside it, like someone has left it for the moment and will be coming back. 

Knowing his time in this locked room might be limited, his eyes are drawn to another door at the back of the room. Beside it are two biohazard suits on two hooks. He approaches the door, peering through the window. “It’s a greenhouse,” he says to Genji. “Lined with at least three dozen plant species.”

“Plants? Hidden behind a locked door?”

“Might be delicate or sensitive. There are biohazard suits here.”

“Protection. The CDC did say that the agent used at the Monte Carlo Fashion Show was plant-based, so this might be where O'Deorain synthesised it. Anything else?”

“There’s a plant out in the open,” he turns around, looking at the flower from a safe distance. There's no doubt that it would have come from the locked greenhouse. “But plants aren’t my thing so I don’t know what species.” He pulls out his phone, snapping a picture. “I’ve taken a photo of it, Winston might know.”

“Ana too, she’s into plants. If there is nothing else that is noteworthy in there, we still have the last quadrant of the lab to check.”

“On my way,” Baptiste says. As he walks past the flower, he eyes what seems to be fluoro blue pollen on the bench. That absolutely wasn’t there before.

He tucks that thought in the back of his mind—he doesn’t suffer allergies so any reaction his body might have to the plant will be of concern. Right now, he feels fine, but he will definitely check in with Angela when they get back on base.

As he continues on his way, he hears Genji sigh through the comm. He sounds tired, possibly bored, and he doesn’t blame him; given the lives they live, pretending to clean is boring. They’ve got some time to kill, maybe they can have a little fun, fool around back in Moira’s office before finishing up, a little payback for the shit she pulled in Monte Carlo.

The thought makes Baptiste stop in his tracks. They’re on a mission, they have to be out of here as soon as they can. This is _not_ the time _or_ place to have sex.

Besides, as much as he's lusting for Genji, he wants to ask him out first. Take things slowly. Besides, if he _really_ needs to fuck him, it can wait until later tonight when they're back on base.

He tries to bury the lusty thought as he searches a corner of the lab he hasn’t swept. He knows he needs to look for clues or hints of what this lab is up to but he can’t focus. He eyes a plant encyclopedia, tucked on a shelf above the benchtop, wondering if it's important, but all he can truly think about is how pretty Genji would look with a cock in his mouth.

A shiver wracks Baptiste’s body. The more he tries to scold himself for letting his mind wander, the more he hyper fixates on it. Soon enough, the desire, the want to be with Genji traverses into intense _need_. He feels like he’s underwater, desperate for a breath, but he can’t hold on, he has to give in, he has to— 

“Nothing here,” Genji says. 

Baptiste’s eyes shoot open. Genji’s voice was too clear to come through the comms. He eyes Genji on the other side of the lab, looking at a series of small tanks filled with some clear liquid. There’s a small, thin plastic object inside the tank and it’s hooked up to a power supply. 

As he hungrily eyes Genji, he can feel that same current of electricity coursing through his veins. His heart hammers in his chest, he can feel his cock straining in his underwear. _How_ he is horny, _now_ of all places is beyond him, but the only thing he wants, the only thing he _craves_ is Genji, more than he needs to draw in his next breath.

Baptiste’s not quite sure what comes over him, but before he realises, he’s approaching Genji. He doesn’t stop, though; he knows he should but he can’t break off his approach. He is driven by a singular need, to feel Genji’s hands on his skin, his mouth around his cock. He crowds Genji’s space and Genji is so close, close enough to reach out and grab and pin to the bench, but he frowns and takes a step back.

“Are you okay?”

“I need you,” Baptiste says, taking a step forward. Genji places his hands on Baptiste’s chest, and the mere touch has his skin feeling like it might ignite.

“You need what?” Genji asks, concern dripping off every word. 

“You,” Baptiste answers, ducking his head to meet Genji’s height. He growls when Genji pushes him away. “What?”

“I think you have been exposed to something.”

“Yeah," Baptiste says with a sly grin. "You and that hot ass of yours.”

“You’re sweating.” Genji puts his hand on Baptiste’s wrist, fingers over his pulse. “And your heart is racing. You are unwell.”

“I also got this,” Baptiste says, smirking smugly as he grabs Genji’s hand, pulling it to his groin. “God, please, _fuck_ , I _need_ you.”

There is a split moment where shock crosses Genji’s face. It’s quickly replaced with lust, and Genji pulls him down into a searing kiss. Baptiste pushes Genji against the bench where the experiments are running, grinding against his thigh, getting off on Genji’s muffled moans.

Genji bites down on Baptiste’s lip, hard enough that Baptiste tastes blood. He doesn’t care, though, and could give two shits about it as Genji slips his hand into Baptiste's pants, moaning when he curls around his cock.

“I think we might have set off a trap when we entered the lab,” Genji murmurs. He tugs, quick and rough, and Baptiste’s hips jerk, the feeling is _tantalising_.

“Why do you say that?” Baptiste asks, the question ending with a moan.

“Because for the last ten minutes, I’ve wanted nothing more than to fuck you into oblivion.”

“Same,” Baptiste breathes, kissing the synthetic skin at Genji’s neck. He smiles when he feels Genji quiver.

“You said there was a flower?”

“Ugly orange thing.” Baptiste suppresses a growl when his body demands _more_. His hand drops, he palms Genji through his pants to get things moving. “There was blue pollen on the table that appeared after I stepped inside the room. But you weren’t there.”

“Spread through the ventilation when you left the room maybe—” Genji’s hips buck, Baptiste smirks when he feels Genji’s cock twitch beneath his hand. “Fuck, we should stop before we leave traces of ourselves here.”

“Don’t care,” Baptiste mutters. Even though Genji tightens his grip and tugs faster, it’s not hitting that same spot. It’s not enough. He pulls his head up, looking Genji in the eye as he swipes a thumb across his lips. “Any chance you’ll suck my dick?”

Genji exhales, ragged. He pulls his hand from Baptiste’s pants and falls to his knees, keeping his eyes on Baptiste as he kisses his cock _through_ his clothing. Pleasure cracks through him like a whip, he grips the edge of the benchtop tight as his knees shake.

He takes his bottom lip between his teeth as Genji opens his pants, ignoring the pain from Genji's earlier bite. As Genji pulls his underwear down, Baptiste sucks in a breath, his pulse thrums in his ears, and he watches in almost slow motion as Genji presses his lips to his shaft. 

Baptiste moans, long and low, as Genji licks a stripe from his balls, up his shaft all the way up to his slit. His lips wrap tightly around the head and _fuck_ , he’s so fucking _gorgeous_ , more than he had ever imagined. 

As Genji bobs up and down, Baptiste places a hand on the top of his head, fingers combing through his hair. He closes his eyes, savours the way Genji applies suction, how his tongue flicks against the small band of tissue on the underside of his cock. It’s utterly _heavenly_ and he won’t need much longer—

“I want to fuck you.” 

Baptiste looks down at him, at the hand wrapped around his cock, and suddenly the handjob feels like _nothing_ because the thought of fucking here and now, _now_ that the words hang between them it’s _everything_ he’s ever wanted.

“ _Please_ ,” Baptiste whispers.

Genji smiles weakly. “But I can’t go in dry.”

“Don’t need to.” Baptiste scans the lab for his bag. Where did he even put it down?

“I hope you’re not searching the shelves for something we can use.”

“I’m not that sick,” Baptiste says, seeing the strap of his bag back hanging off the cart. He hesitates, looking at Genji’s hand still wrapped around his cock, and holding his breath, ready to rip off this bandaid, he nods. Genji takes back his hand, and Baptiste takes over, tugging as he makes his way across the lab. It feels like an eternity but he opens the bag, finding what he’s after quickly; a bottle of lube he has stashed away in his first aid kit.

“So you’re down to fuck anywhere,” Genji says with a sly grin as Baptiste tosses the lube over. “Good to know.”

“I’ll have you know that lubricant is handy to have in a first aid kit.”

“For what?” Genji turns him roughly, Baptiste rests on his elbows in front of the running experiment hooked up to the power supply as Genji pulls his pants down to his knees. 

“Chafing, getting tight rings or bindings off you, unsticking zips and bolts—fuck!” Baptiste presses his head to his closed fists when Genji pushes in. He’s rough, insistent; if Genji feels anything like Baptiste feels right now, then he’ll be running on pure adrenaline, with the single thought of hitting that swell of pleasure as fast as possible, rather than moving slow and exploratory.

Soon enough, Genji pushes in a second finger. Molten heat pools in Baptiste’s core, he takes himself in his hand and tugs in time with Genji’s penetrations. But just like before, just as it's starting to feel _amazing_ , the pleasure tempers. 

Genji acts on his silent request—or was he vocal?—and withdraws his fingers. It feels like another eternity before he feels the cool slick and the forceful press of his cock. He pushes in, just as roughly as he was with his fingers, and if Baptiste truly cared, he’d tell Genji to go slow so he can savour every inch, to relish in the tightness of his grip against his hip. 

But he doesn’t, because right now he feels so amped up that if he doesn’t come, here and now, he might just explode. 

Baptiste moans when Genji thrusts, and shouts when Genji wraps his hand around his cock. Every moment, every sharp snap of Genji's hips feels like bliss. He’s ready to come, to fall to orgasm and feel awash with utter pleasure. Ever since leaving that locked room, he’s wanted this, he’s needed this and it feels so fucking _amazing_ —

“Fuck, Genji,” he moans as the coil snaps. His cock bumps and slides against the cupboard under the bench, he realises belatedly that he's left a big fucking trace of himself in this lab but he can't find the means to care about it right now.

Genji growls behind him, it sends a ripple of pleasure coursing through Baptiste, and he absolutely doesn’t stop thrusting. His breaths grow heavier, a hand settles on Baptiste’s shoulder, gripping tightly. Baptiste can feel himself building up again, Genji feels so good, so fucking phenomenal that by the time Genji’s heaving breaths turn into grunts, when slows to a grind, Baptiste is half convinced that he had a second orgasm. 

He feels Genji’s head rest against his back, and Baptiste feels his heart rate slow. He doesn’t feel feverish, he can look at the experiment for longer than three seconds without his brain switching to Genji’s mouth stuffed with cock.

But, as he stares at the tanks, guilt settles over him like a cold blanket. 

Genji steps away from him, and by the time Baptiste turns back around, Genji is gone. Baptiste pulls up his pants and eyes Genji pushing his cleaning trolley. 

“We’re done,” Genji says, not meeting Baptiste’s eyes. His voice is too neutral to get a read on his true intentions. “We have enough to keep Winston happy.”

“Genji—”

He keeps walking. It might not have been present in his voice, but it’s clear as day in his actions.

Genji sees this as a mistake.

Sighing as the chasm of loneliness swallows him whole, Baptiste picks up two rags and the cleaning spray. He wipes up the come on the cupboard and floor, then sprays the surfaces, as well as the benchtop, wiping away every trace. 

Before he felt like he was drowning in lust, and now, he’s engulfed in regret. This little act has probably cost him his friendship with Genji, and all he needed to do was fight it for an hour at most. 

With a heaving sigh, he pushes his cleaning cart out of the lab.

* * *

Genji is avoiding him.

It’s been a week since the laboratory mission and Genji has barely said two words to him. The shuttle ride back to base was spent in tense silence, and they debriefed that night, after a shower which wasn’t nearly long enough to wash the guilt and shame away. They pretended like nothing happened, showing Winston and Ana the pictures of Moira’s lab book, the flower, as well as several experimental setups that Genji had taken. Nothing really caught Winston’s eye and the fact of the matter was none of it was game-changing. Odds are, the mission was a bust, as is his friendship with Genji.

When asked if there was anything else, Genji mentioned that for a brief moment, he displayed symptoms of anxiety thet quickly passed. Baptiste agreed, after a moment the symptoms subsided, willingly leaving out _what_ it was that cleared it, it isn't exactly mission appropriate. They were ordered to the medbay after, Angela ran a few scans and found nothing wrong. Blood tests were run and those came back normal too. Whatever had entered their system has dissipated.

Since then, every time he enters a room, Genji leaves. Genji doesn’t say more than a passing greeting. Every time Baptiste thinks he can get a minute alone with Genji, he disappears. Baptiste knows that there was nothing he could do to control himself back in the lab but he wishes he tried. He should have fought, he should have told Genji that he has been in love with him for months and that while this isn’t the circumstance to _show_ him that love, _if_ he doesn’t fuck right this fucking second he might die.

If he was able to vocalise the reasoning behind his actions, he might not feel like the world's biggest asshole. But he only had one thing on his mind, and that was Genji’s dick.

Snickering at the fuck who coined the term, ‘hindsight is twenty-twenty’, Baptiste downs another shot of rum. He closes his eyes, listening to the waves crashing against the cliff below him. All he wants right now is to apologise to Genji. To salvage their friendship and ask for a do-over. It doesn’t matter that they already fucked, he’ll gladly throw that experience in the bin and forget it ever happened if it meant that he could see Genji’s smiling face again.

With a sigh, he opens his eyes. Genji has to be _somewhere_ , and right now, he can no longer stomach this feeling of total heartbreak. As he reaches into his pocket to grab his phone to try and work out where Genji might be at this hour, he sees someone standing in the shadows of the base. The pointed green line of Genji’s visor is unmistakable, and for the first time this entire week, Genji doesn’t turn away.

He doesn’t move forward either, but Baptiste will call it a win nonetheless.

Smiling mirthlessly, Baptiste picks up the bottle, gently waving it. “Care to join me?”

It takes more than a few long moments for Genji to move, and when he does, it’s _towards_ Baptiste. Baptiste breathes a sigh of relief, watching Genji approach. Genji doesn’t say anything but neither does Baptiste, not as Genji sits, not as he takes off his faceplate, not as he takes the bottle from Baptiste and has a sizable gulp of it.

Baptiste gives him all the time in the world. This is the first time Genji's willfully been in his company since the lab and the last thing he wants to do is spook Genji and break what is clearly quite fragile between them.

“I want to apologise,” Genji says slowly, eyes fixed on the bottle. “I should not have taken advantage of you.”

“Far as I recall, _I’m_ the one who made the move.” 

Genji meets his eyes. “We were not ourselves.”

“Absolutely not. And I’m sorry too. It’s easy to look back at it now and go, ‘jeez, I should’ve had more tact than _dick, now_ ,’ but I couldn’t control myself. And that’s not an excuse, far from it.”

“I understand,” Genji says. “I’m also sorry for avoiding you. The guilt has been hard to deal with and coupled with trying to navigate my feelings for you... I couldn't avoid you any longer. I _needed_ you.”

Baptiste cannot help the smile that blooms on his lips. Hearing Genji say those words aloud makes his heart flutter. “That’s been the hardest part.”

Genji hums, his smile is unmistakable, even in the low light. He hands Baptiste the bottle, and as Baptiste grasps it, their fingertips brush together. He can feel the spark, the reigniting of their friendship, and the potential blossoming of their relationship.

“I’ve been in love with you for a while now,” Baptiste says, taking a deep, shuddering breath. Words he’s said aloud too many times to count this past week are now uttered _in_ Genji’s presence, and he can only hope that baring his soul doesn’t backfire. “You’re smart and funny and I get butterflies in my stomach when you enter a room. I should have said something sooner, we were dancing around it for long enough, but I convinced myself that falling in love with a teammate is disastrous at best.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Genji murmurs. “I feel something with you that I haven’t felt with anyone before. I’ve _loved_ , but I haven’t been _in_ love. Seeing your smile brightens my entire world. Hearing your voice makes me feel a giddiness that I’ve never had with someone. I was certain that everything we had built was destroyed in those… _intense_ minutes on that mission and that there was _no way_ to get it back." Genji pauses, and when he speaks again, it's a quiet murmur, "I didn’t _want_ to speak to you because I was afraid that my heart would tear in two _if_ you had felt betrayed by what happened.”

“Genji,” Baptiste murmurs, reaching out and taking his hand. “You didn’t betray me.”

Genji exhales, stuttered. Then, he smiles, and he looks like an entire weight was lifted off of his shoulders. “I love you, Baptiste.”

“I love you too,” Baptiste whispers, choking back a sob. He cups Genji’s face gently and leans in ever so slowly. Genji meets him halfway, and now, Baptiste takes his time. He savours the brush of Genji’s nose against his cheek, the cares of his breath on his lips, the way he melts into him when they kiss. 

The damage of those quick minutes in that lab is erased, washed out back to sea like the waves crashing against the cliff. The gaping chasm of guilt and loneliness in Baptiste’s heart is closed shut, and waiting on the other side with arms outstretched is Genji.

Baptiste presses one gentle kiss on the corner of Genji's mouth and draws in a breath as he rests his forehead against Genji’s. _This_ is their first kiss, and it’s wonderful and exciting and _perfect_. He mentally burns the memory of what happened in the lab. Sure, it might have been the catalyst to get them to this stage but _fuck_ , he could have done without the guilt and loneliness.

He pulls away, just enough to look into Genji’s eyes. In them, he sees promise, hope, and Baptiste knows that he will be looking into these eyes every moment of every day for the rest of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> The title of the fic was shamelessly stolen from the opening lyric of Burn by In Flames, which goes, 'We're in the ruins of dreams,' only because it's 11pm and I cannot think of a better title skadfjsda
> 
> I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/BeanChillie) and [PillowFort!](https://www.pillowfort.social/ChillieBean) Come say hi!


End file.
